


The Agony of Choice

by cassiem



Category: Block B
Genre: M/M, Nipple Piercings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-10 23:19:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7012231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassiem/pseuds/cassiem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taeil gets nipple piercings and can't deal. Jihoon is clueless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Agony of Choice

**Author's Note:**

> for Jaimee <3
> 
> This is set around Jan 2012, just before 난리나 came out. It doesn't really have any bearing on the plot, but there's a few references in there.

Jihoon doesn’t even really know what it is that clues him in to the fact that Taeil’s acting weird. Weirder than normal, really, because Taeil is pretty weird to start with. Perhaps it’s the fact that he winces whenever he hauls himself out of bed in the mornings, and Jihoon notices this when he crawls down the ladder. Or perhaps it’s the fact that Taeil is rubbing his chest as he walks into the lounge room, and Jiho sees, and gives him a knowing glance that Jihoon catches because he’s right behind the both of them. Or maybe even it’s the fact that Taeil – who was never shy with his body before – has suddenly started wearing shirts around the dorm.

It wouldn’t be a tattoo, because he’s said that he wanted to get more on his arms before starting on his chest, and besides, he happily shows everyone his new ink when he gets it. And as Jihoon’s eyes follow Taeil across the dorm, as he bends to pick up a stray sock and hisses with pain, Jihoon finds he wants to _know_ , with a curiosity that burns him inside. He’s always been like that with Taeil, though – has always wanted to pluck at the strings that make Taeil who he is and figure out what makes him tick, ever since he joined them. This is just another piece in the puzzle of Lee Taeil, except for once Jihoon is going to do something about it.

So he flops heavily down onto the lounge next to Taeil and nods at the minuscule TV that they’d begged and begged Jiho to let them get. It’s currently tuned to one of the music shows, and Taeil is watching disinterestedly. “What’s up, hyung?” Jihoon asks, keeping his voice deliberately light, looking over at him with an easy grin.

Taeil looks back at him. “Nothing,” he says, but his tone of voice indicates he’s weirded out by Jihoon’s (admittedly over the top) enthusiasm. “What’s up with you?”

Jihoon doesn’t bother with pleasantries and leans over, looking between Taeil’s eyes and his chest deliberately. “Are you alright, hyung? You keep acting like, I dunno, you’re hurting or something. Did you get another tattoo?”

“No,” Taeil replies curtly, crossing his arms over his chest – but Jihoon doesn’t miss the way he inhales sharply and stiffens, obviously in pain. “I’m fine.”

His tone says _leave me alone_ , but Jihoon’s quickly learning that sometimes Taeil doesn’t really mean that, so he puts his hand on Taeil’s arm. “Are you sure, hyung? Because –”

He doesn’t even have time to finish his sentence because Taeil snatches his arm from Jihoon’s grasp and scrambles backward off the sofa, a strange expression on his face, holding his arm to his chest like he’s been burnt. Jihoon just stares as Taeil turns his back on him and walks away into the bedroom, his fingers clenching on the leather of the sofa, feeling very small indeed. Perhaps the most curious part of it all – the fact that has Jihoon feeling slightly dizzy as he sits back on the lounge heavily – is that he’d had recognised the look on Taeil’s face when Jihoon’d touched him; it was pure, unfiltered lust.

//

“Hyung,” Jihoon wheedles, leaning into Jiho so they can’t be heard by the others, “have you noticed Taeil hyung has been acting weird, lately? Like his chest is hurting, or something.”

Jiho elbows him in the side grumpily. He always gets tetchy after their schedules are finished, and Jihoon sort of understands why – trying to manage the six of them would be a nightmare. But Jihoon knows him well enough now to know that he’s not _really_ mad, so he just smiles up at him as Jiho rolls his eyes, being jostled as the van goes over a bump. “I haven’t noticed. Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

“I did,” Jihoon huffs, sitting back in his seat properly and glaring through the darkness at where Taeil sits, his headphones in. “He said he was fine.”

“Then he’s probably fine,” Jiho replies distractedly, having already pulled out his phone. From where he’s sitting, Jihoon can see he’s flicking through twitter, seeing gifs of their performance they’d finished not ten minutes ago already being posted.

Jihoon doesn’t bother to point out that he knows they’re both lying to him, and he can’t for the life of him figure out _why_. So he just plays with a stray thread on his pants, listening to Jaehyo and Kyung bicker up the front, and watches Taeil as they drive through the night, the streetlights illuminating and darkening his face in turn. Maybe Taeil got injured or pulled a muscle and he and Jiho are hiding it from the others; it wouldn’t be good to get an injury this early into their career, an injury that could put their lead vocalist out of the running. Jihoon just doesn’t _know_ , and while he knows it’s none of his business – as close as he tries to get to Taeil sometimes he pulls away with equal vigour – and that Taeil would tell him if he wanted to, he can’t help feeling stupidly, childishly hurt.

So it’s with this slight bitterness that he trails after the others into the lift, lagging behind as they all rush forward, fighting over who will get to shower first. Even with two showers in the dorm there’s constant arguments, and he really can’t be bothered, not tonight, so he just takes off his jacket and hangs it carefully on one of the portable clothes racks strewn around the living room and stretches out on the sofa to wait his turn.

//

It weighs on him for the next few days, especially because Taeil doesn’t seem to be getting better. In fact, he can’t even _look_ in Jihoon’s direction anymore, and god forbid they touch when Jihoon is handing him chopsticks or a drink – Taeil recoils so fast it’s like Jihoon’s hurting him. Which is stupid, and it’s stupid of Jihoon for feeling so hurt about it, but he just can’t help it. After Minho’d packed his bags, he had clung desperately to those he had left, including Taeil – but now it seems like all his hard work of trying to draw Taeil out of his shell has been for naught.

That’s why he goes home early from karaoke, sitting in the back of the car and feeling miserable and slightly drunk. He hadn’t been allowed to buy any soju for himself, of course, but it was all too easy to steal long gulps from Kyung’s bottle when he was busy straining himself shrieking into a mic. Taeil had been absent, too, and maybe that’s why he’s heading home so early – when he’d asked Jiho why the eldest wasn’t there, Jiho had just stared at him and shrugged and said _when did you care so much about what Taeil hyung is doing?_

Good question, and one that Jihoon doesn’t find he has an answer for as he staggers into the lift and sags against the wall heavily, watching the numbers go up. His interest in Taeil had shifted into infatuation somewhere along the line a while ago, and he’d just sort of given up and gone along with it. It’s so hard not to, especially when Taeil grins and his whole face lights up, or when he leans into Jihoon and slings an arm around his waist, or even when he wakes Jihoon up by hitting him over the head with a pillow. As he punches in the code to their electronic lock, Jihoon shakes his head at himself and wonders how the fuck he got in so deep.

The moment he swings open the door Taeil is standing right there, leaning on the kitchen bench, and Jihoon is so startled he drops his phone. It clatters to the ground and he winces, jumping in shock, Taeil doing the same and whirling away the moment he sees it’s Jihoon. “What are you doing here? I thought you were out with the others.”

Jihoon bites his lip as he toes off his shoes. Taeil is shirtless, and his back is so broad and his skin so pale under the soft overhead lighting that it’s all Jihoon can do not to lean forward and touch him – even though Taeil’s tone of voice had been a definite _fuck off_. “I wasn’t feeling well,” he lies, hoping this will provoke some kind of reaction from Taeil. “The others will be there for hours. I just want to lie down.”

“So go lie down, then,” Taeil replies over his shoulder.

Jihoon still hasn’t moved – he’s still standing in front of the door in his socks, and he unbuttons his jacket and drops it where he stands. It’s this that keys him in to the absurdity of it all, the fact that Taeil has suddenly become so closed off to him where he wasn’t before. So Jihoon takes a wobbly step forward and wraps his fingers around Taeil’s bicep, dragging him in to a back hug. It’s probably the alcohol, but his head feels light all of a sudden, especially as Taeil looks up at him, his head on Jihoon’s shoulder.

“What the fuck are you doing, Jihoon?” he asks, but his voice isn’t as curt as it was before and Jihoon’s drunken mind surges forward with enthusiasm.

“Why are you ignoring me, hyung?” he leans down so he’s speaking directly into Taeil’s ear, his lips brushing Taeil’s hair. “What did I do wrong? You’re so closed off from me all of a sudden.”

Because Jihoon’s got his arms wrapped around Taeil, he feels him inhale sharply, and he feels him tense up as he pulls away and whirls around. He looks angrier than Jihoon has ever seen him before, and he takes an involuntary step back, wrapping his arms around himself. “It’s none of your fucking _business_ , Jihoon, jesus christ. Just leave me alone.”

Jihoon doesn’t even bother to protest because Taeil is standing shirtless in front of him for the first time in _weeks_ and he casts his eyes over his ribs, his stomach, looking for signs of bruises or bandages – anything that would give him an indicator of why Taeil has been so _weird_. But there’s nothing, not even a new tattoo, not even –

“Hyung!” he blurts, his eyes fixed on Taeil’s nipples, which, if his eyes aren’t failing him at the tender age of eighteen, are _pierced_. “Did you – did you get your nipples pierced?” he takes a step forward, not even noticing the odd expression on Taeil’s face. “Can I touch them?”

His alcohol tolerance has never been very good, and he’s evidently drunker than he thought, because before Taeil can do anything he reaches out and runs his fingers lightly over Taeil’s right nipple, blinking at the feeling of cool metal underneath his fingertips. He would never _dream_ of doing anything like this if he was sober, because fuck, he could ruin it all, ruin the tentative friendships and careers that they’ve made together – but he can’t bring it in himself to care, not when he’s this drunk and the piercings look so, so good on Taeil. He’s just about to say something when Taeil grabs his wrist and pulls it away forcefully, making Jihoon yelp with shock.

“Don’t touch me,” Taeil gasps, and he sounds more ragged than Jihoon has ever heard him. “Don’t fucking touch me. I can’t handle it when you touch me like that.”

The words take a moment to sink in, but when they do Jihoon’s instant response is to touch the left one with his free hand, and the truth in Taeil’s words is compounded because the moment Jihoon rolls his thumb over the nub of Taeil’s nipple he hisses and sways into Jihoon, almost like he can’t help himself. His grip on Jihoon’s wrist loosens and so Jihoon wraps an arm around him and pulls him close, so they’re pressed up against each other, and _fuck_ , he has to close his eyes to ground himself. “Hyung –” he starts, and clears his throat when it comes out strangled. “Hyung… Does this feel nice?”

His own audacity shocks him a little bit, but he’s rewarded by Taeil’s fingers clenching in his shirt, and when he looks up at Jihoon it’s all too easy to see the lust etched all over his face. It’s the most natural thing in the world to lean down and close the distance between them to kiss Taeil, and he nearly falls over. How many fucking times? How many times had he dreamed about doing exactly this, and now he _is_ , and Taeil’s tongue touches his hesitantly and his hand scrabbles underneath Jihoon’s shirt to palm at his belly and Jihoon’s eyes roll back in his head. He pinches Taeil’s nipple gently, smirking as Taeil rolls his hips into Jihoon’s thigh, his fingers digging in to the flesh of Jihoon’s back.

“Jihoonie,” Taeil whines, and it’s the sweetest thing in the word to hear that word coming out of his mouth when he looks like _that_ , so Jihoon backs him gently up against the nearest wall and steps back to appraise him.

He looks hot, hotter than Jihoon has ever seen him, and he transcribes this sight to memory: Taeil, panting and staring Jihoon down with half-lidded eyes, the barbells in his nipples glinting underneath the overhead lights, his dick straining against his stupid tatty lounging around pants that the others all love to hide to watch him go ballistic. Jihoon just sweeps his gaze over it all, noticing the way Taeil’s fingers clench, how he shivers.

“Is that why you’ve been acting weird?” he asks, noticing his voice is low and husky and it sounds like he’s just gotten off the stage, but no, he’s struggling to stop himself from kissing Taeil again.

Taeil looks at him and raises his chin slightly, an unspoken challenge. “Do you have any idea what this was like?” He gestures to his nipples slightly helplessly, and closes his eyes and swallows. “It was – every fucking time I moved, like pain and pleasure all at once. Looking at you just made it wor–”

Taeil shakes his head and bites his words back, and Jihoon suddenly can’t think. Because what is that, if not a confession? A half-assed confession at best, but it’s enough for Jihoon so he closes the space between them to kiss Taeil again, not caring that he moans into Taeil’s mouth helplessly as Taeil’s arms close around him. His fingers find the barbells again and he relishes making Taeil gasp and grind into Jihoon like he can’t help himself, even if his head is spinning with how fucking fast things are going.

Jihoon trails kisses down Taeil’s neck, hooking his fingers underneath the waistband of his pants but not going any further – not yet, not when he’s biting Taeil’s collarbone and then bending down to close his mouth around one of Taeil’s nipples and look up at him. Taeil’s response is instantaneous and almost violent; he grabs Jihoon’s hair and pushes his head in, encouraging him on, and his eyes flutter shut as a filthy moan escapes his mouth. Jihoon echoes it as his tongue swirls around Taeil’s nipple, feeling slightly faint, the metal cold and bracing on his tongue. Fuck. _Fuck_. He never would have thought, never would have believed –

“Jihoon,” Taeil grunts, tugging at Jihoon’s hair. “Not here – God. Not here.”

And then Taeil’s pushing him backwards, tugging him down the hall to their tiny bedroom and shoving him on to the nearest bed, that just happens to be Jihoon’s. They both have to duck so they don’t hit their heads, and Jihoon wonders, logistically, how this is going to work – but then Taeil’s crawling on top of him and biting Jihoon’s neck and he can’t think of anything else except _Taeil_.

“Hyung,” he moans, reaching for Taeil’s pants, dragging his fingernails over Taeil’s hips to tug at his pants, closing his hand around Taeil’s cock with no hesitation. “Hyung, _fuck_ , want you.”

It’s just incoherent mumbles, now, but how can it not be when Taeil is bucking up into his fist, when he’s trailing his hands down Jihoon’s legs to wrap them around his waist, when he’s closing his eyes and scrunching up his face? This is all that Jihoon has ever wanted for _months_ , and now that it’s fallen into his hands he finds he’s not quite sure what to do with it. So he touches Taeil on the face softly, wonderingly, before trailing that same hand down Taeil’s neck, his chest, to brush over his nipple again, grinning as Taeil cries out at the sensation. “They look good, hyung,” he says lowly. “ _You_ look good.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Taeil growls, opening his eyes to look at Jihoon, but he’s biting back a smile and Jihoon knows he doesn’t mean it. “Jesus – hearing you say those things. Jihoon, if only you knew –”

“Knew what?” Jihoon asks, picking up the pace with both his hands, playing with the barbell gently. “Tell me.”

Taeil kisses him, but it doesn’t seem like he’s doing it to shut him up but moreso that he can’t help himself, if the breathy noises he’s making are any indication. Jihoon revels in it, loves knowing he can make his hyung feel like this, behave like this – like he can’t get enough of Jihoon. “Like you’re gonna fucking kill me,” Taeil breathes, thrusting his hips upward into the circle of Jihoon’s palm, his eyebrows drawing together. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

“I can guess,” Jihoon offers, and Taeil just rolls his eyes and leans down to kiss Jihoon again hungrily.

This feels so damn wrong doing it here like this, considering they’re both going to have to sleep in this same room in a few hours with Yukwon and Kyung being none the wiser, but when Taeil’s lips fall to his neck and he breathes, “god, yes, just like that, Jihoon,” he finds he doesn’t care.

The alcohol has burnt off long ago, being replaced by some cocktail of adrenaline and endorphins that has him snorting with laughter as Taeil whines when Jihoon tugs on the piercing lightly, even though this is not funny – it’s the least amusing situation Jihoon has ever been in, and possibly the most erotic. He’s still having trouble believing that this is real, this is really happening – and he has a nasty sudden thought that maybe it’s not him, that maybe it’s just the nipple piercings driving Taeil mental and making him want to fuck the nearest thing with a pulse. He doesn’t like that, doesn’t like his sudden burst of shyness, so he grips Taeil’s chin and forces his head up so they’re looking at each other, even though he doesn’t stop stroking Taeil’s cock.

“I’m not – this isn’t just…” he begins, before sighing. “I mean, this goes beyond the piercings, right?” He hates how his voice trails up at the end, hopeful.

He gets his answer by way of Taeil dragging his nails down Jihoon’s chest and belly to palm his cock through his pants. “Fuck, Jihoon, it’s _you,”_ Taeil breathes, before kissing Jihoon again.

That’s all he needs to know, really, and it’s hard to think when Taeil hasn’t moved his damn hand from the front of Jihoon’s jeans. It’s especially hard to think with the way Taeil moans _Jihoon_ into his neck, his breath hot. It’s so damn sinful that Jihoon has to take a moment to swallow and bring himself back down to earth, because _fuck_. “Come on, hyung,” he breathes, arching his back as he takes his hand away from Taeil’s cock to lick a stripe up his palm, deliberately hamming it up in order to get a response before jerking Taeil off again, the lubrication his spit gives making Taeil writhe.

“Jihoon – gonna –” is all Taeil manages to get out before he comes, spilling onto Jihoon’s shirt (that neither of them had bothered to take off), Jihoon running his thumb over Taeil’s nipple over and over again, making him buck so violently he nearly hits his head on the top bunk.

Taeil’s arms finally give out, and he collapses onto Jihoon’s chest. Jihoon wipes his hands on his pants before circling them around Taeil and hugging him close, humming happily as Taeil kisses him gently on the cheek. They lie like that for a few moments, Jihoon’s head spinning around and around, before Taeil props himself up on an elbow and raises his eyes. He trails a hand down Jihoon’s chest and grins as Jihoon shifts. “You should get yours done, you know,” he teases, kissing his way down Jihoon’s chest to push up his shirt and lick at his nipple.

Jihoon wants to point out that if they both get theirs done then they’ll never be able to keep their hands off each other, but that’s a bit presumptuous of him considering he doesn’t know if this was a one-time deal or not. So he just raises an eyebrow and curls his hand in Taeil’s hair. “I’m not really into piercings. I prefer looking at them.”

He has so many questions – starting with _what does it feel like_ and ending with _do you feel the same about me?_ – but he doesn’t even get the chance to vocalise them, because Taeil unbuttons his jeans tantalisingly slowly, raising his eyebrows. “Yeah? It’s probably a good thing. The dorm would never survive if we were both this horny all the time.”

 _How the fuck did you know what I was thinking?_ Jihoon thinks, and he’s about to ask but Taeil yanks Jihoon’s jeans down in one smooth motion and closes his hand around his cock and Jihoon just gasps, his eyes fluttering shut. “God – hyung –” he pleads, not really sure of what he’s asking for, but Taeil seems to know and he twists his wrist just right, leaning over Jihoon to kiss his neck, his cheek, his lips.

He’s so fucking keyed up – and has been since they started this, really – that it’s not going to take much for him to come, not when Taeil whispers in his ear _you look so good, Jihoon_ , and _I’ve wanted this for so long_ and _I wanna see you come for me_. That last one does it, and he comes burying his head in the crook of Taeil’s neck, moaning _Taeil hyung_ like he can imprint the words there.

“God,” he breathes, closing his eyes as Taeil wipes his hand on his shirt and lies down, resting his head on Jihoon’s shoulder.

 “Didn’t you say you weren’t feeling well?” Taeil mumbles, but Jihoon can hear the smile in his voice and he snorts.

“Yeah, but I’m better now,” he replies, and Taeil smacks him on the shoulder.

He dares to shift, pulling his arm out from underneath Taeil to wrap it around him and pull him close, still wondering if this touch is allowed. He doesn’t know what the rules are, if Taeil just wanted to get off and now they’ll be back to being colleagues, friends. But then Taeil leans up to kiss him on the cheek and he feels himself blush, which just makes Taeil laugh. “We should probably go shower. And you should change that shirt.”

Jihoon doesn’t want to move, though, he doesn’t want to burst the bubble of fragile peace that they’ve created, but he knows Taeil’s right. It would possibly fuck up everything if the others found them like this, even if he’s pretty sure that Yukwon had clued into his crush on Taeil long ago, with how perceptive he is. So he doesn’t make any moves to get up and instead closes his eyes and strokes Taeil’s back gently. “Hyung,” he starts, unsure of himself even in the face of what Taeil had said earlier; after all, things said in the throes of lust are not necessarily things that are meant. “This – I mean. If it’s just because of the piercings, that’s –”

Taeil leans up and kisses him and he melts, all doubts flying away. Words can be faked, but actions can’t, and Jihoon can sense the truth in the way Taeil grabs Jihoon’s face to deepen the kiss, leaving the both of them gasping. “It’s not just because of the piercings, Jihoon,” he whispers. “I told you. It’s _you.”_

Jihoon looks into Taeil’s eyes for a moment, slightly amazed at how the course of a life can change in just one moment, before pulling him in for another kiss. _It’s you, too,_ he thinks, and he knows Taeil feels it, too.

**Author's Note:**

> This idea manifested in my head because of a few things, but mainly because of how damn touchy Jihoon was with Taeil's nips for _Toy_ promotions. Every single [fansign](http://imgur.com/a/H0EG1) he'd be going for them. My mind ran away with that (maybe Taeil has sensitive nips? Maybe he has his nips PIERCED?) and here we are. For some people, the healing process of nip piercings made them crazy horny (for others it just hurt, from what I read) so I figured Taeil would be one of those people :~) It also completely got away from me – I originally wanted it to be like 1k but now here we are, 4k later.
> 
> Also because I promised Jaimee I'd write her something when we were in McDonalds so here you go babe!
> 
>  
> 
> the title is just some bs that doesn't really have anything to do with the fic I just really couldn't think of a title 


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